Disclaimer: I own nothing related to No Ordinary Family. I am merely playing in their world.

Author's Note: For those of you who have read my Stargate stuff, never fear! I am continuing everything! This one-shot captured my attention and had to be written so it wouldn't continue to distract me. It contains spoilers for most of Season One, but particularly for Episode 13. So, without further ado, I present my first attempt at fanfiction outside of the Stargate genre. Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

They call me The Watcher.

I truly don't remember much of my past life, but I know what I was. I was sick, weak, unable to care for myself let alone anyone else. Dr. King provided me with what I desired the most. But that provision came at a high cost. A serum, when injected into my body, produced the most fantastic powers available to man. Telekinesis. An ability to influence others. Changing written words with but a thought. And, if I try really hard, I can erase memories. Oh! And I can resist Daphne Powell.

In exchange for all this power, I watched others like me. Some went insane and had to be stopped. Others got too close to the police and had to be eliminated. Still more are out there, waiting for the time to perform the service that Dr. King requires.

But not the Powells. I first met the Powells through Dr. King. This family fascinated him, showing signs of the same type of power I possessed. Only they didn't get it through his serum. They got it through some freak plane wreck in Brazil. King assigned me to watch them, and I met her.

Katie Andrews, the single most amazing woman a man can meet: innocent to the ways of the world, honest, intelligent, and totally adorable. When I first saw her, I thought her simply a means to an end. She was close to Stephanie Powell and, therefore, my best chance to get close to the family. I intended to merely use her and throw her away.

But something shifted. I started seeing below the awkwardness in social situations. Her obsession with comic books and super heroes and science fiction amused and drew me. After all, wasn't I science fiction? Somehow, her innocence broke through the shell I'd pulled around my heart. It definitely wasn't what I imagined when I took on the name of her fake online suitor.

Being in love with Katie changed me. I no longer killed without remorse. Every time I looked her in the eye, I felt as if something had been stripped from me. Could a woman as innocent and honest as Katie Andrews love someone betraying her? I couldn't take that chance. In spite of the lease on life that the serum gave me, I could not ruin the one woman who made me feel alive.

And, so, I left. I walked away from it all. I knew the consequences would be great, and I didn't care. I would be with Katie, watching over her, protecting her, loving her. The withdrawal symptoms weakened me, but I handled the pain. I didn't count on Katie's love or concern. She took me to see Stephanie Powell, and Victoria Morrow appeared.

Victoria was another Watcher, a shape shifter, one with whom I'd shared a superficial relationship based solely on lust and violence. She paled next to Katie no matter how exotic her accent or seductive her approach. And I knew her kisses, so much so that I knew she wasn't Katie when she tried to take her place.

Seeing Katie in Victoria's clutches, struggling with everything in her to avoid the poison in the needle, sent me over the edge. Suddenly, I knew how to employ my abilities. I crawled down the hall, my weakened condition cured by a simple injection of the serum. When I walked back into that lab, I easily lifted Victoria with my mind, pushing her through a glass window. Katie wasn't sure what to make of me, then, and I knew I'd have to be honest with her.

Now, as I lay next to Katie, I stare at the ceiling and contemplate my life. I am a killer with one fatal flaw: a conscience. That conscience sleeps next to me, her hair tickling my nose as she is drawn to the warmth of my body. I was honest with her, telling her of my sickness and asking if we could be together. That request was more than a physical need. The physical is merely an extension of our relationship. Perhaps one day, I'll tell her my true name.

This is me. And, at this moment, I simply want to be Joshua.